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<title>𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨 🁡 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑇ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑀𝑢𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑟𝑠 by Adrenalineshots, sonshineandshowers, TheFibreWitch</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26503027">𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨 🁡 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑇ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑀𝑢𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑟𝑠</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrenalineshots/pseuds/Adrenalineshots'>Adrenalineshots</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonshineandshowers/pseuds/sonshineandshowers'>sonshineandshowers</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFibreWitch/pseuds/TheFibreWitch'>TheFibreWitch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Domino 🁡 [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prodigal Son (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Assault, Case Fic, Digital Art, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hallucinations, Harassment, Health Emergency, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Mental Health Issues, Metafiction, Murder Mystery, Nightmares, Surrealism, Trauma, Unreliable Narrator, Video, a lot of really strange stuff that happens in altered states of consciousness, anxiousness, reader-driven</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:06:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,069</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26503027</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrenalineshots/pseuds/Adrenalineshots, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonshineandshowers/pseuds/sonshineandshowers, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFibreWitch/pseuds/TheFibreWitch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Selecting 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑇ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑀𝑢𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑟𝑠 from the bookshelf, Malcolm travels through his own mind.</p><p>Read this story at: <a href="https://www.thedominostory.com/#the-three-musketeers">https://www.thedominostory.com/#the-three-musketeers</a></p><p>This book is one part of the Domino series. If you have not yet read the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497927/chapters/64577434#workskin">Preface</a> or <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497927/chapters/64588537#workskin">Introduction</a>, please head there first.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>JT Tarmel/Tally Tarmel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Domino 🁡 [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926451</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Domino 🁡, Prodigal Son Big Bang 2020 - Saturday Posts</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨 🁡 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑇ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑀𝑢𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑟𝑠</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jameena/gifts">Jameena</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissScorp/gifts">MissScorp</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProcrastinatingSab/gifts">ProcrastinatingSab</a>.</li>


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/685300">The Three Musketeers</a> by Alexandre Dumas.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This book is one part of the Domino series. If you have not yet read the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497927/chapters/64577434#workskin">Preface</a> or <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497927/chapters/64588537#workskin">Introduction</a>, please head there first.</p><p>Betaed by the wonderful <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jameena/">Jameena</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissScorp/">MissScorp</a>, and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProcrastinatingSab/">ProcrastinatingSab</a>.</p><p>Credit to the creators and their works that inspired and were referenced in this work:<br/><b>— Inspiration: </b><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Three_Musketeers">The Three Musketeers</a> - Alexandre Dumas<br/><b>— Cover Song: </b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mx0xCI1jaUM">Smooth Criminal</a> - 2Cellos</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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</table><p>Malcolm was brooding. He was well aware of that fact. The others were aware as well, because he had warned them about his morose state of mind when they insisted he join them for a drink at The Tavern.</p><p>It was just a bar, like so many others in New York City, but the owners seemed to have some sort of obsession with 17th century France, so the bar looked like a tavern and offered all sorts of ales and cheap wines. The guy behind the counter even had a dirty rag draped over his shoulder, the same one he used to wipe the tables and his nose.</p><p>It also had a discount for cops, one of the main reasons why Dani and JT had dragged him to the place.</p><p>They had closed the case a couple of hours before, managing to catch the killer red-handed –quite literally– when he returned to the crime scene to ‘clean up.‘ Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but still, a killer that was now behind bars. Malcolm should have been happy, satisfied, but instead he could not shake the gloom that had taken over his mind since the beginning of the day.</p><p>He had seen The Girl in the Box.</p><p>Or better put, he had thought he had seen her, but given that he refused to believe in ghosts until proven wrong and The Girl in the Box was currently dead, he had clearly seen wrong.</p><p>He had been simply going down the street, on his way to the precinct, when he had bumped into someone. The first thing he had noticed was the dark hair, the exact same shade as The Girl. From there to looking up at her face had been less than a heartbeat. She had looked so warm and alive. Unafraid.</p><p>Took him a second to realize that the woman hadn’t in fact been The Girl in the Box at all and that she was warm because their impromptu bump had spilled all of her hot coffee over her silky blouse. After offering all the apologies that he could think of and paying for the woman’s useless coffee and ruined shirt, Malcolm had finally made his way to work. And so the foul mood had begun.</p><p>“Your frown is scaring off the patrons,” JT announced, setting three jugs of overfilled beer on top of the chipped, wooden table.</p><p>Malcolm stared at the drink. Beer was supposed to have foam in it...whatever that foamless, yellow <em>thing</em> was inside those jugs was, it wasn't beer. “Thanks...I'd rather have some wine,” the profiler pointed out as he rose to his feet.</p><p>JT merely shrugged before pulling the extra jug towards him. He was already halfway through his first one, gulping it down like it was water. Which, if Malcolm was right, was probably one of the <em>extra </em>ingredients in that suspicious beverage.</p><p>“Want some?” he asked Dani, watching her twist her nose as she sipped her own beer.</p><p>“<em>Please</em>,” she begged, pushing her jug towards JT as well. They would probably have to carry him home that night and get an earful from Tally about allowing her husband to get shit-faced.</p><p>Still, they had tomorrow off and JT had worked his ass off to catch their killer. They all had. They deserved to misbehave for a few hours.</p><p>Malcolm gave her a nod, making his way to the bar. Now that he looked closer, he could see a couple of rapier swords hanging above the top shelves of bottles. The stools had been made to look like old barrels and the profiler gingerly took one, feeling it wobble slightly as he settled his weight on top.</p><p>“Y'r in m'spot!”</p><p>Someone hissed the words far too close to his neck, in a slurred jumble of words that Malcolm had some difficulty recognizing as English. He turned around, finding himself gazing at a man who towered over him by a good head and a half. And an avid fan of the local beer, from the smell on him.</p><p>From the clenched fists to the flared nostrils, there was no need for a degree and Quantico profiling training to figure out that this guy was eager for a fight.</p><p>Any other day, Malcolm would have ignored him and smoothed things out, well aware of the tell-tale signs of a drunken bully to know to give them a wide berth. Today, however, he was in a mood. “You do look like someone with a permanent spot in a drunken shit-hole like this,” Malcolm let out, perhaps a bit too loudly.</p><p>It was an ill-timed comment, at best. Because the guy behind the counter, who also happened to be the proud owner of said '<em>shit-hole</em>,' chose that exact moment to come closer and take Malcolm's order.</p><p>“What shit-hole, ya prissy prick?”</p><p>“Who'r callin' a drunk, ya lil' shit-head?”</p><p>Malcolm looked at the two equally pissed off men, wondering who would throw the first punch. He decided that preemptive action was his best bet to avoid any flying fists. Getting to his feet, the profiler put all of his strength into pushing the drunken guy away from him, succeeding in avoiding the barman's punch in the same movement.</p><p>All of his strength, however, might have been perhaps too much for a guy already unsteady on his feet. The drunken guy flew backwards, completely incapable of controlling his flailing spiral until he crashed into a table on the far side of the wall. A table that had just been set with fresh drinks.</p><p>“Hey! What the hell, man?!” the four guys sitting there looked less than pleased at the drunk man now splattered all over their tabletop instead of their filled glasses. As if sharing a single brain cell, they looked at the bar counter, figuring that the drunk man’s trajectory had started there. Their eyes landed almost immediately on Malcolm, squinting in rage.</p><p>Malcolm weighed his options. The drunk man was out of commission, still sprawled on that table, trying to figure out which way was up and forward.</p><p>The barman had jumped over the counter and was currently inching towards him, the dirty cloth swinging in his hands like it was an actual weapon. Perhaps a biological one, if Malcolm was venturing a guess.</p><p>The group from the table had gotten up as well, all dressed in similar red uniforms, like they  were part of a biker gang or something. From the way they were moving, Malcolm figured they were a bigger threat than the bar owner.</p><p>He ventured a look at the exit, suddenly less interested in a bar brawl than he was when his only opponent was one drunk guy. Six to one was kind of pushing his luck.</p><p>“Look guys...this is all one big mis-” Malcolm started, hands held up, slowly backing away. The bar owner, however, was having none of that. He threw the cloth on the equally dirty floor and jumped towards the profiler, beefy hands going straight for the neck.</p><p>Malcolm blocked him easily. Like he was doing a swim stroke, the profiler took advantage of the same movement of his arms to both push the barman's attacking hands away and cuff the man behind both ears. The barman stopped in his tracks, clearly dizzy and confused, his ears ringing from the blow.</p><p>Before Malcolm could start savoring his victory, a large hand grabbed his shoulder from behind. He turned on instinct, barely catching a glimpse of the fist flying towards his face. He flinched, knowing beforehand how much it was going to hurt.</p><p>The punch never landed.</p><p>Malcolm looked up to find JT standing by his side, hand wrapped around the incoming fist. “Making friends?” he asked, pointedly ignoring the snarling man behind the fist.</p><p>Malcolm shrugged while fixing his jacket. On his other side, Dani was looking at the brawly group with a disapproving eye. “I could say they started it, but <em>technically</em>, I'd be lying,” he confessed.</p><p>“I appreciate the honesty,” Dani said with an approving nod. “Need a hand?”</p><p>On the other side of JT's impromptu tug of war match, the group of guys dressed in red had been joined by a few others who had been scattered across the other tables, making the odds of about three of them for each.</p><p>JT gave out a heartfelt laugh. “You know what this reminds me of?” he asked, finally letting the guy's fist go. He waited for the man to gain his senses and walk away, but instead, he decided to actually throw a punch at the tall detective. JT easily dodged him, answering with a blow of his own that sent the man flying through the air. “You know, with the swords on the walls and these guys dressed like the Red Guards?”</p><p>Malcolm was busy dodging a few fists of his own, managing to land a hard knee against one of the guy's stomachs. The man huffed, fell down, and decided that he didn't want to move anymore. “Please, don't say it,” Malcolm begged, knowing exactly what this reminded JT of. It was one the many books that his father had read to him as a kid. He was well familiar with the story.</p><p>Dani kicked one guy between the legs hard enough to make three others flinch in sympathy. She looked at her partners like they were crazy people, casually flinging a stray lock of hair back. “What the hell are you two talking about?”</p><p>Malcolm had one guy held in a headlock. He looked at JT, who had another in a similar position. They smiled, not resisting the move as they sent both of their 'victims' to bump heads against each other.</p><p>“Don't tell me you never read Dumas?” JT let out, sparing her a brief look before slapping the guy trying to break a beer bottle on Malcolm's head. “All for one...” he quipped with a smirk.</p><p>The three of them were, after all, defending one of their own in 'battle,' risking their lives every day in service of their country and with a boss that could seriously put Treville to shame in terms of strength of character and valor.</p><p>Malcolm rolled his eyes almost in synchrony with Dani, both of them sharing a look. They knew what words JT was waiting for, and despite how ridiculous the whole situation was, they could not resist.</p><p>“And one for all!”</p><p>— ◌◯◌ —</p>
<p></p><div class="note">
  <p>
    <a id="note" name="note"></a>
  </p>
  <p>Dani’s head is buried in her computer screen looking through photographed book contents. There’s a crick in her neck, and her eyes are beyond strained, into a level of bleariness that everything she looks at is fuzzy. She makes the font bigger, but that only helps the words look big and fuzzy.</p>
  <p>“They didn’t do too good of a job covering their tracks,” JT shares, pulling her attention from the screen. “After a few hops, money is going to a business account for Sunnyside Greenery.”</p>
  <p>“A flower shop?”</p>
  <p>“Orchids and custom topiaries.”</p>
  <p>“Veronica did have a lot of plants.” At least a dozen by her count, maybe more. “Registered?”</p>
  <p>“Yep — let’s go have a chat with Mr. Goodman.”</p>
  <p>“A good man is hard to find.” She smirks and they start the walk to the garage.</p>
  <p>“That’s a Gil-level joke. Think you’ve spent a bit too much time in the books.”</p>
  <p>“Haven’t we both?”</p>
  <p>“I’m gonna owe Tally a lot more than pizza rolls. She’ll have me up to full Super Bowl Sunday by the time we’re done here.”</p>
  <p>“Football’s not even your thing.”</p>
  <p>“She likes the food.”</p>
  <p>No one’s waiting for her at home. This is one of those times that fact is useful rather than depressing. Gil would still say <em>that’s not a good thing</em>. She doesn’t think Gil’s left the hospital — that’s not a good thing either. “She good at home?”</p>
  <p>“Yeah. Probably celebrating getting to watch all her own shows without me there to complain.”</p>
  <p>“I know she misses you.”</p>
  <p>“Yeah, me too.” JT unlocks the doors to the SUV and hops in the driver’s seat. “Let’s go.”</p>
  <p>Stringing together a set of emojis, Dani texts Sria, <em>what’s gonna be on the menu</em>?</p>
  <p>Her friend sends a photo of peanut butter slathered onto a banana in reply. <em>Something better than this</em>.</p>
  <p>Smirking at one of her own past culinary experiments, she doesn’t think that result would be too bad. It’s a full head above Bright’s delights.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading. Head back to the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497927/chapters/64588570#workskin">Bookshelf</a> to pick another book. :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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